


A Path of Flowers

by NinaFujisaki



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27008236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinaFujisaki/pseuds/NinaFujisaki
Summary: Beside Halloween, there was another Holiday near the end of October that Gosalyn was very fond of. It was time to lit the candles, organize the pictures, and create a path of flowers to reconect with her lost family in The Day of The Dead.Writen for Ducktober day 3, "Flower", on Tumblr.
Relationships: Gosalyn Mallard & Drake Mallard, Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Gosalyn Mallard & Professor Waddlemeyer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	A Path of Flowers

Just like basically every kid that grows up in North America, Gosalyn _loves_ Halloween. It’s one of her favorite Holidays, just losing for Christmas, and she had a feeling that this year’s Halloween would be the best one in years.

Not only she wasn’t spending it in a foster house that was against Halloween and where she had no friends around, but this year her Dad had sewn a perfect Darkwing costume only for her, and Launchpad was passing by at sunset to bring her to McDuck Manor! Gosalyn had spend all day there yesterday already; she, Webby and the triplets planning their costumes and the route they would be doing to trick-or-treat around Duckburg.

On the back seat of the limo, Gosalyn hugged the bag keeping her costume. She was excited for tonight. She was ready for Halloween!

But before that, she needed to celebrate another holiday.

“We’re here, Gos,” Launchpad said on an unusually low, respectful tone as he stopped in front of St. Canard’s cemetery. “You sure you don’t wanna company to go in there?”

He was clearly worried about her, not only for her safety but for how she was going to feel doing what she went there to do.

However, Gosalyn really looked ok as she shook her head and got the bouquet of cempasúchil flowers resting on the seat beside her.

“I got this, Launchpad, really,” she reassured him and open the limo’s door. “I’ll be right back.”

Not waiting for Launchpad to say anything else, Gosalyn closed the door behind her and went into the cemetery. She looked around. At this point of the day, with the sun almost set and the place ready to close, there were not many people in there. In fact, her only company beside the security staff was an old lady silently praying in front of a grave. And even then, the lady was on the opposite side of her destination.

In a corner almost at the end of the graveyard, Gosalyn found the one she was looking for.

**R.I.P. Nicolas Waddlemeyer, Bright scientist and beloved grandfather.**

Gosalyn’s heart shook reading those words, and she had to take a deep breath to keep her eyes from tearing up. It has been two years since his death and yet it still hurt so much to remember that her Abuelo wasn’t around anymore.

But that was exactly what El Día de Muertos was for.

Granted, the main holiday was actually 2nd of November, but Gosalyn’s memory records strongly the way her abuelo would start preparing pan de Muertos and checking his garden of the same flowers she was carrying right now on Halloween. Everything needed to be ready for the actual date.

He didn’t want to lose time to connect with his roots and teach her about them, bringing her every November 2nd to the cemetery with flowers, candles and food to be near her parents’ graves, telling her stories about them.

_‘They are not completely gone, mi niña,’_ he would say. _‘As long as we remember them and keep their memory alive, they will find their way to us once a year.’_

_‘How?’_ she would ask more than once.

_‘Why, by following the petals,’_ he then would point to the petals of cempasúchil flowers all round them.

It sounded so magic. Her abuelo, a man of science, firmly believed in that story that sounded so much like a fairytale, so therefore Gosalyn believed in that too.

She still does. She still believes and treasures that connection that brings her peace.

Closing her eyes, Gosalyn took one more deep breath, this time the good memories bringing a smile to her beak. She was able to keep it when her green eyes laid on the grave again.

“Just two more days, Abuelito,” she was almost whispering. “Two more days and I will come here with my Dad- you remember him, right?- We’re gonna come here with food and flowers and I’m gonna tell him everything about you, Mom and Dad. You guys won’t be forgotten.”

That was a promise. One she intended to keep for as long as she lived and breath.

After some seconds of hearing the whisper of the wind, Gosalyn finally rested the bouquet on her grandpa’s grave. Then she stood up, turned around and made her way out of the cemetery.

She would be back two days from now, with more flowers to show her old family the path to her new one.


End file.
